


Hats and Harlequins - DISCONTINUED

by AeriShadow



Category: Dragon Age (Comics), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Canon, Assassin - Freeform, Blades, Cassandra - Freeform, Comedy, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Dragons, Drama, Eventual Romance, Family, Fantasy, Funny, Gen, Iron Bull - Freeform, Killing, Rho, Solas - Freeform, Trevelyan - Freeform, witty
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-30 01:13:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3917689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AeriShadow/pseuds/AeriShadow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nineteen-year-old Rho Trevelyan has been dubbed the "Herald of Andraste". As a vicious darkspawn magister looms overhead, Rho struggles to remember aspects of her haunted past, and attempts reconcile for her actions by starting anew with a group of charming misfits: The Inquisition.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A crazy beginning to a crazy story. Watch as Rho's world unfolds before her eyes.

**Prologue:**

"You can't take me!"

The Haven mountainside groaned as a barrage of snow screamed down its slope, making haste for the unprotected chantry. A young girl scrambled frantically through the village, snow crunching violently underneath her feet. Gripping at the intense pain in her side, she hobbled away from the massive trebuchet behind her. Her head jolted back, fixating on the avalanche. She stifled cries of pain as she ran.

_Where do I go?_

The snow thickened? beneath her, making her stumble.

_Shit! No no no!_

A blast of rough air struck against her back, toppling her over.

She did not need to glance up to know what had knocked her over: a great black dragon loomed overhead, screaching as it swooped over the avalanche and across the treeline. She cried out, clambering to her feet and dashing across the boardwalk. The ice had grown slippery and she felt her own legs giving out from under her.

_Just keep running!_

She had reached the middle of the icy boardwalk when it collapsed beneath her, sending her flying through wooden planks into the deep pit below.

* * *

 

She lay there motionless, groaning and aching. Her right hand burned white hot, jolting her upright.

"What the fuck?" she exclaimed, clasping at her scorching hand. It glowed more vibrantly than it ever had before, illuminating the dark cave in waves of green. She gazed up above her at the broken planks she had fallen through, wincing as bits of snow fell onto her face.

She tried to muster the strength to get up, but only fell down in more agony. Something was broken, she was sure of it. Managing to her knees, she inhaled the stale air. The cold burned against her lungs and lower jaw, scraping along her throat with every breath. Everything ached. She wanted sleep, safety – death. Anything to get her out. She rolled over on to her side and lay still as clumps of snow pelted her from above. She welcomed the cold, flinching as each clump of snow struck her shivering body.

_Everyone got out. It's okay. You're okay._

A brief, relieving sigh escaped her between her spouts of shivering, and a warm blackness enveloped her compellingly.

"Herald?" a voice called in the distance. It felt so far away, a vague whisper in the back of her mind.

"It's her!"

"Thank the Maker!"

The blackness whisked away as quickly as it had come. Her vision, still hazy, could make out three figures: A meek Inquisition scout, shakily holding a lantern, accompanied by a worried-looking Commander Cullen, and an exasperated Seeker Cassandra.

Cassandra sucked air as she propped the young girl upright, "Herald! Are you alright?"

Cullen cut in swiftly, "It looks like she fell through that crack there," he pointed up at the broken planks above them, "She may have gotten a concussion," he knelt down at the girl's side, grabbing at her face and opening up one of her eyelids, "Tell us who you are, Herald. We need to make sure your head's in the right place."

The girl rubbed her free eye vigorously and mumbled, "I am Rhododendron Trevelyan – Rho - of the Trevelyan family of Ostwick. I'm the 'Herald of Andraste,' I buried the- the whole village - Haven," she paused, shivering and chuckling weakly to herself, "and I'm still a disappointment to my parents."

"That's her. Let's go." Cullen tugged at her from underneath her arms and helped her to her feet.

"You cannot trust her well-being on words alone, Commander," Cassandra protested, taking the lantern from the scout's hand.

"Well she won't get any better standing out here in the cold, we must get her back to camp."

"Did everyone m-make it out alive?" Rho stammered, leaning heavily against Cullen as he dragged her through the cave.

Cullen and Cassandra exchanged thoughtful glances at one another before he spoke, "I believe so. They were not as many casualties as I had thought there would be. We managed to get Chancellor Rodrick back to camp as well, with the help of that mage – Dorian."

Rho felt the blackness returning to her once more, and stumbled over her own feet, "And everyone else? Varric? Bull? Leliana? S-Solas?"

"Yes," Cassandra began, "Leliana got our people to safety with that young man -"

"C-C-Cole?" She stammered, the blackness closing in on her more and more.

"I believe so, yes. Everyone is accounted for, with minor injuries. Mother Giselle is attending the wounded as we speak."

"Cassandra we must get the Herald back immediately," Cullen said, lifting Rho from her knees and cradling her quaking body, "she's frozen solidy, Seeker."

_Black, black, black._

Cassandra let out a mixture of frustration and worry, her hot breath hanging limply in the air, "Let us go then, quickly."

_Black, black, so much black. It hurts. How do I stop the hurting?_

A thick veil of drowsiness passed over her as she drifted into unconsciousness.

* * *

 

Rho awakened slowly, drearily wiping her eyes. She propped herself up onto her elbows. Cassandra and the advisors huddled together in front a campfire bickering to themselves. The voices droned together into a muddle of jarring noises.

She glanced to her side to see Mother Giselle sitting peacefully next to her.

"You need rest," she whispered, wiping her thumb gently across Rho's forehead.

The mild touch made Rho close her eyes and sigh heavily. Mother Giselle possessed no magic, but in that moment Rho could swear she did.

"I -" Rho began, "Where are we?"

"We ourselves do not know where we are, we only know that we are safe for the time being," Mother Giselle continued to stroke her forehead, watching as Rho's breathing slowed, "What do you remember?"

"I remember -" she paused, squinting hard in concentration, "Well - everything - vaguely. The army, Venatori, killing Fiona, Corypheus and his dragon - archedemon- thing, the avalanche. It's all a blur, I don't even know if I was the one who did it, or if I just watched. I thought for sure that I was dead. I wish I stayed that way."

"For what you experienced, perhaps it is better for you not to remember so vividly," Mother Giselle's voice liquefied in her ears, sending her back and forth from consciousness to drowsiness.

"I did nothing except get caught in the middle of all this. Cullen and Chancellor Rodrick saved everyone, not me," Rho mumbled groggily.

Yelling from the advisors grew louder as the two of them spoke, breaking the silence from the rest of the camp.

Rho groaned, "I wonder if they're talking about something productive, or... competing to see who can yell the loudest," she chuckled softly, making herself cough a little.

"Humour is few and far between in times like these, you must treasure it. They may consider themselves lucky, thanks to you. Because of your actions, this Corypheus did not follow us. And with time to doubt -"

"Fighting with each other won't do us any good either." she spoke with so much effort that she began coughing again, grabbing at her aching sides.

"Our leaders struggle because of what we survivors witnessed, Herald," she lay her free hand on Rho's side, stroking it softly.

She coughed some more before speaking, "What did 'we' see?"

"We saw a brave young woman stand alone against a monster and fall," she brushed the dense chocolate curls out of Rho's eyes, "Now she is here. The more harm you do against this Corypheus, the more miraculous you appear, Herald. In times of struggle, people turn to faith. Regardless of what you believe, the people will see you as an image of faith, a beacon of hope." Her soft tone did not change, but her words echoed through Rho's mind, making her tremble.

"It doesn't matter what they believe," Rho spat, "Corypheus is real and he is out there for our blood! We need a plan, not hope." Rho's weakness turned to anger, burning hot inside her aching lungs. She lay back down on the bedroll and covered her face with her hands, sighing deeply. Small tears threatened her already puffy eyes, and she huffed considerably until the heaviness subsided.

Silence sifted through the camp like a dense fog. No one spoke for fear of disrupting its visit. Fire crackled in the distance, singing a lullaby to those around it. Rho wondered why no one was speaking, but felt no need to speak herself. Her breaths became softer, less furious.

Mother Giselle leaned over her and laid a hand on her forehead. She smiled contently as she brushed the hair out of Rho's eyes some more, "You are a kindred spirit, child. Whatever comes, know that you have the confidence of others in your wake."

Rho sighed in acknowledgement of her words, clasping onto Mother Giselle's hand weakly.

Mother Giselle stood up and walked over to the other side of the tent, picking up a blanket and walking back over to Rho's bed. She unfolded the blanket and laid it across the girl's body. She was huddled in a tight ball, using her hands as a pillow. Mother Giselle tucked the blanket underneath her feet and pulled the top half of the blanket over her exposed ear. She sat back down again and continued stroking Rho's forehead.

_"Shadows fall_

_And hope has fled_

_Steel your heart_

_The dawn will come._

_The night is long_

_And the path is dark_

_Look to the sky_

_For one day soon,"_

She stopped, gazing over at Rho and stroking her hair one last time. She was asleep. Peacefully.

_"The dawn will come."_


	2. Chapter 1: The Inquisitor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The prologue and first chapter are really just to set the stage for what is about to happen next. I plan on delving deeper into the characters in the Inquisition and fleshing them out a bit. A lot of things that happen in the main storyline don't fit with my protagonist, so I've changed some things to make it more relative. I will get into backgrounds and more interesting stuff lin the next chapter (which I'm writing currently), I just wanted to quickly build up things so I'm not writing pages and pages of backstory that explain how she got here and whatnot. Please enjoy!

**Chapter 1: The Inquisitor**

* * *

 

A soft nudge.

"Herald? Are you awake?"

Her eyes opened slowly, taking in the warm sunlight. Her body still ached, a sore that lingered forever. She wondered if it would ever go away.

"I told you that I could wake her up, Commander. No brute force necessary," a bright-eyed Leliana sat on the foot of her bed, a messenger bird resting atop her shoulder.

Rho smiled respectively at Leliana and looked around. They were no longer back at camp, but in a room. Wooden floor and stone walls, a candle flickering beside her on a nightstand. Sunlight shone in from the windows, bathing them both in a pleasant glow. Birds chirped outside and the mild hum-drum of people was muffled from within the walls.

"You really need to stop dragging me places when I'm unconscious. I might get used to it," she playfully tapped Leliana with her foot.

Cullen cleared his throat, announcing himself to her, "Uh – Solas – he lead us, told us that the Inquisition could build itself here. We've already begun renovations and things should be up and running within the week."

"It's perfect, you must see." Leliana grinned and stood up from the bed, motioning Rho to follow suit.

"Mother Giselle insisted that we let you rest while we traveled, for fear that you would not make the journey." Cullen made his way for the door, still focusing on Rho and Leliana.

"Not that we would have been able to wake you anyway, you slept for almost thirty hours."

"That's what kids do, is it not? Sleep?" Cullen laughed as he opened the door for them.

"I'm not a child, Cullen," Rho slapped his breastplate as she exited the room, "I'm perfectly capable of - "

She had never seen anything so magnificent in all her life. A stone castle, lush at the roots. History sang through the stone walls like a choir, bouncing off every corner until it rang a beautiful melody. Soldiers and refugees hustled about, laughing and smiling, playful like children. Merchants grinned from ear to ear and horses padded happily about the stables. People gathered around a staircase leading up to the main doors. Cassandra and Ambassador Josephine stood at the top of the stairs, gazing down at the group below them. Cassandra held in her hands a greatsword, a copper snake coiled around its base. She looked at Rho and smiled, nodding her up the stairs.

"Herald," Leliana began, gazing up at the castle and taking a deep breath.

"Welcome to Skyhold, Herald. We have a surprise for you," Cullen smirked, guiding her up the stairs.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Slow your roll, Curly!" Varric and Iron Bull emerged from within the crowd and made their way for the stairs, " You haven't even let us greet the poor girl yet!"

Rho bolted down the steps and ran over to embrace them both, "You both made it. Good to see that dragon didn't eat you alive."

"Well Solas is probably the only reason we weren't burnt to a crisp," Varric smirked.

" _You_ weren't, maybe," Bull huffed, "big bastard scorched my horns," he grumbled and rubbed his hands over his horns.

"I was nervous for you. Glad you're at least in one piece," Rho smiled meekly, staring at one of Bull's charred horns.

" _You_ were nervous?! Buttons, I'm not sure if you recall, but I think it was _you_ who dropped a mountain on Corypheus, not us," Varric patted her on the elbow and chuckled.

"Congrats on not dying, by the way. What happened at Haven was _fucked up_. He knocked you on your ass, sure, but at least your pet didn't have to carry you away from a fight." Bull laughed and threw one hefty arm over her shoulder, giving her a tight side hug. Her body groaned from the squeeze, and she let out a small yelp.

"If I can remember how I did it, then I'll be sure to do it again. Once everything stops hurting then maybe I'll get my brain back," she forced a grin and nodded at the two men.

"Hey, kid, you're doing fine. He's only a darkspawn magister with an archedemon for a pet. No big deal," Bull chuckled and shot her a knowing smile. Rho acknowledged his attempt to cheer her up.

"But let me know if you start functioning again, Buttons. I wanna throw this stuff into my next book."

Rho rolled her eyes at Varric, giggling a little, "What's everyone doing here?"

"Waiting for you, Herald," Cullen said from the stairs, holding his hand out to her.

"Uh... Why?"

"You'll see," Cullen smirked and guided her up the rest of the stairs.

When they reached the top, Cassandra and Josephine bowed their heads towards her. Josephine smiled in greeting, then gazed down at the crowd below them.

"What are you doing, Cassandra?" Rho said, staring at the sword in her hands. It gleamed magnificently in her palms, screaming for someone to swing it just once.

"We have been talking about this for a long time, Herald," Cassandra started.

Rho stared out at the crowd as Cassandra spoke, watching the pairs upon pairs of eyes all fixated on her. She gulped again, feeling her throat tighten, clenching onto the thick lump that formed inside it. She could spot all of her inner circle in the crowd. They felt like strangers to her, like colleagues. They were banded together because they had to, not because they wanted to. Not all of them got along. Not all of them agreed with her, but it didn't matter. With no leader, no one could control the infighting. Strangers will bicker. They were a crowd of strangers.

"We have no Inquisitor, no leader. We need someone who is willing to make the tough decisions, someone who will lay down their life for our cause. We have been bickering so much about it because we did not see what was right in front of us," Cassandra smiled at her, adjusting her grip on the sword.

"Everything you have done since you got here has been for the betterment of our cause. You have sacrificed so much for people who first saw you as a menace," Josephine was speaking now, "it may not have been direct leadership, but you _are_ the one who has been pushing us forward."

Cassandra drew in breath, "We need a leader who will make the difficult choices, but failed to see that you have been doing that all along."

"I -" Rho started, feeling her throat closing in on her. The crowd waited in suspense, whispering to themselves and pointing at her, "I – am just doing what I'm told. I've done none of this on my own, I can't - "

"You have the mark, you survived the conclave, you defeated the envy demon, saved the Templars, countless lives were saved because you threw yourself into danger, unwavering," Cullen spoke sharply from behind her. Sharp, but kind. Well-meaning.

"I can't lead something this big, not by myself - " Rho protested, still staring at the crowd below her.

"You will not be alone," Leliana spoke up, pointing Rho's head down to the crowd, "you see all of them? They believe that you are special, you bring them hope. Without you as Inquisitor there is no one to give them hope."

"Trust us, Herald," Josephine chimed in, "we would not ask you if we did not think you could do this."

Rho stood silent for a moment, looking down at Varric and Bull, who were both giving her two thumbs up. She smiled and nodded, then turned to face the advisors, "I – okay."

"Oh, good!" Josephine exclaimed.

Cassandra held the sword out to her, nodding in approval. Rho felt the sword in her hands. It was heavy and cold. It carried many feelings that Rho could not explain. She could barely hold it in one hand without toppling over.

"Well, _Inquisitor_ ," Cassandra smirked, "give us your speech."

Another moment passed. Rho gazed out into the crowd again, their faces all lit up. They no longer looked like a group of strangers, or colleagues. She recognized faces of soldiers and scouts that she had failed to notice before, many she would chat with and laugh with, spar with and drink with. She saw her inner circle, huddled together closely, grinning and shouting words of encouragement at her that she had failed to hear. These people were not strangers. These people were the Inquisition.

She took a deep breath and gulped, preparing her throat for words she had not thought about. She reached inside herself for something heroic, masterful, well-spoken. She yearned for the perfect sentence, searching deep in her mind. Waves upon waves of random words flashed through her head, but none seemed quite right. They were waiting for perfection. Waiting for her.

"Corypheus is a bastard, and we're gonna kick his ass," she blurted, embarrassed at what had left her mouth.

To her surprise, the crowd roared. So loud that all of the chirping birds fluttered away. They jumped up and down and screamed her name wildly. Their fists flew into the air and their voices cried together in perfect harmony.

Their thrill and excitement echoed through her body, enticing every nerve. It nestled inside her until it burst as she thrust the greatsword in the air with one hand. She stumbled but didn't care. Something was telling her that everything was alright. She felt new, different – better. A whole new person escaped from her as she held the greatsword in the air. She did not feel like Rho in that moment. She felt like the Inquisitor.

 


	3. Chapter 2: Wanna Spar?

**Chapter 2: Wanna Spar?**

 

Rho sat cross-legged on a stone ledge overlooking the surgeon's dispensary and the stables. She clutched a tablet with blank parchments, drawing a rough schematic for a dual bladed dagger.

Recent events had begun to sink into her mind. She no longer felt as she did back when they named her the Inquisitor, and began growing restless.

_Corypheus is out there somewhere and we are sitting idle._

Varric had convinced the Advisors that he had a solid lead on Corypheus and his followers, but had seemed to be taking forever to bring them the evidence that he claimed.

_Varric, you slimy, lovable shit._

A plethora of thoughts swarmed in her brain as she mindlessly stroked away on the parchment. She grew worried. Thinking back on recent events, she had still struggled to rembmer bits and pieces. Even bits and pieces of her own life had seemed to slip away from her, the memories blocked in a blanket of small, seemingly unimportant things she could remember, but many important things she could not. Many aspects of her life before the Conclave seemed patchy and disconnected. She could not remember when she had last seen her family, and often wondered if they even knew that all of this had happened to her. Perhaps they assumed she was dead.

_Better off that way, probably._

She had grown restless of the lack of training that was available to her. She missed the experienced sellswords that she had met as they passed through Ostwick. Rho had attempted many times to spar with Leliana's scouts, but she had either outmatched them, or they were too scared to give her a challenge. She had not seen anyone wield blades the way the sellswords did in Ostwick.

A sly grin danced across her face as she thought about it.

In fact, even those in her inner circle did not match a similar skill set as her own. Varric was quick and deadly, but not up close, and did not take down foes as artistically as those she used to train beside. Bull was up close and deadly, artful in his killings, but not quick. She had yet to be truly inspired by anyone in all respects. In her mind, no one in the Inquisition had seemed to master the art of silent murders. No one except Cole.

_Where has he been, anyway?_

Rho glanced down past the infirmary near the bottom of the stairway. Cassandra, Solas and Vivienne stood in a loose circle. Vivienne puckered her perfect lips and glared at Solas, who was unwavering.

"It is a  _demon,"_  she could hear Vivienne spit. The ice in her words made Rho shiver.

It appeared obvious that Solas was arguing, but Rho could not make out what he was saying.

_Doesn't matter what he says as long as he thinks he's outsmarting her._

"My dear Inquisitor, if could stop climbing about the ramparts like a child and join us," Vivienne sneered.

Rho grunted, laying her drawing down and slithering along the stone wall until she reached the stairs.

She could still hear them mumbling to each other vaguely, but heard Cassandra's impatience ring much louder.

"Inquisitor -"

"It is not a stray puppy, my dear," Vivienne began, "you surely can't be thinking of keeping it."

Rho's brow furrowed, "Keeping what, Lady Vivienne?"

Vivienne gestured furiously behind Rho, "That  _thing!"_

Exchanging a curious look at Solas and Cassandra, she slowly turned around.

Cole sat in a tall patch of grass quietly picking flowers and resting them against his legs, which folded criss-cross.

"No, he is not a puppy" she turned back to face her, "but he does look like one when he does that –  _thing -_ with his hands," she began playfully swatting at the air.

"This is not some game, Inquisitor - "

"Inquisitor, I was wondering if Cole was perhaps a mage, given his – uh - unsual abilities," Cassandra spoke softly, ignoring what everybody else had said.

"Cole has the ability to make people forget him, or even fail entirely to notice him. Even the most adept mage could not do these things," Solas glanced over at Cole," I believe that Cole is a spirit."

Cole continued to sit in the grass, idly arranging the flowers into a bouquet.

"A spirit of what, Solas?" Rho asked.

"I cannot say for certain. Perhaps wisdom, compassion, hope?" Solas said.

Rho smirked, "Mm."

"You aren't honestly thinking of keeping that  _thing_ , are you?" Vivienne scoffed, crossing her arms and popping her hip out.

"Cole is the only reason that that Envy demon didn't slice my face off," her voice was calm yet sharp.

"Cole says he wants to help," Solas added.

"And he could outmatch any scout that we put up against him," Rho grinned, making quick stabbing gestures with her hands.

"Its skill is no better than yours, Inquisitor. The last thing we need is another one of  _you_ around throwing blades everywhere," Vivienne hissed.

"You may at least let him defend himself, Lady Vivienne," Cassandra cut in, "for all we know, he could be-"

All four of them turned to look at Cole, but he was gone.

"Where did he go?"

"It's probably off plotting our demise."

"I dont think I'll ever get used to that," Rho scratched her head and sighed, "You know what? You three work this out of your system and  _I'll_ just – I think I'll go look around," she slowly began backing away from them, and trudged off towards the infirmary.

She walked over to the infirmary and eyed around for a giant hat.

_If I were trying to help someone..._

Rho approached the surgeon, who looked quite uneasy, "Is everything alright?"

"No, your Worship," the surgeon gulped, "this patient's got more burns than I can deal with on my own, but I can't leave his side. I've no more wet loincloths to down the inflammation."

The surgeon knelt next to a sprawling soldier crying in agony. The lower half of his cheek was singed badly, and his leg twisted at an uncomfortable angle.

Rho's eyes lit up, "I- I'll go grab some for you, Elizabeth. Wait here."

"Th- thank -"

Before the surgeon could finish, Rho had already began scrambling up the stairs and into the main hall. She raced down the main hall and cut a left. She reached another set of stairs and nearly toppled over, regaining her balance by gripping onto the corner of a wall. She screamed down the stairs and reached an open room with three doors, each across from one another.

"Oh fuck," she murmured. Her head jolted back and forth between each door, "which one was – oh!"

Her feet flailed under her as she bolted towards the kitchen.

Two brunette elves and a middle-aged man stood in the kitchen kneading dough and cooking turnips.

"My lady!"

"Welcome, Inquisitor."

"Hello, my -"

" _Wet cloth!"_ Rho blurted awkwardly.

"For what?" the middle-aged man asked as he stirred a pot of turnips.

Rho sucked air and centered herself, "I'm sorry – I need some wet cloths – for the surgeon. It's a bit of an emergency... so,"

One of the elven cooks gasped, "Right away, my lady!" and scurried off.

She returned with a handful of damp cloths and bowed nervously as she presented them. Rho smiled and bowed stiffly in return, then scampered out into the large room again.

Seeing the room from a different angle made her head hurt.

"Maker's balls," she groaned and jogged towards the door. She estimated that the only door left open was probably the door that she had gone through previously.

When she had finally gotten out the front door, she saw no sign of Cassandra, Vivienne or Solas. Shrugging off their disappearance she ran over to the infirmary.

When she approached the infirmary, she saw no signs of anyone.

_Where could she have run off to?_

She jerked her head back and forth, nervously clutching the cloths. There were no soldiers, no attendants – nobody. The tents were shut tight, and she could not hear any breathing or coughing from within them.

She approached one of the tents and drew her ear to it, listening for a voice.

"Face scalding – fingers shaking. Hot, white pain. My lungs, they – they burn."

"Huh?" Rho whipped around and shot upright.

Cole stood inches away from her, head down. He wrung his hands together gently, stepping toward the tent that Rho was standing next to.

"Burns to breathe. Every breath slower – ambling, aching – asking."

Cole took another step toward the tent.

"Mercy! It hurts. Maker, why can't you make it stop hurting? I can't do it – not anymore. I'm falling – I – I'm -"

Cole took one last step toward the tent and pressed his hand against it, tilting his head down so his hat just touched the canvas.

"Gone."

Rho stood silent, eyes wide. She did not hear Cole come up behind her, yet had not flinched when he did.

"Cole..." she began, taking a hesitant step in his direction.

"You don't have to worry. He was going to die anyway, with or.. without your help. The burns hurt him too much. He wanted to die - mercy." Cole spoke softly into the tent, releasing his hand delicately.

"So you.. read people's minds, Cole?" Rho gaped, trying to make sense of it all.

"I hear their hurt. They are louder this close," Cole turned his body toward her but did not lift his head.

"What about the surgeon then? Will she be okay knowing she lost one of her patients?"

"No," Cole said meekly, "you helped her."

"How did- how did I help her?" Rho looked puzzled.

"You remembered her name."

"I remembered her name?"

"Yes. Most people forget. But you remembered."

Rho chuckled to herself, "At least I remembered  _something_."

Cole sat back down on a patch of grass and pulled out a handful of flowers from his pocket. He then proceeded to place them on his criss-cross legs and scour around for more. His back arched forward slightly and his shoulders rounded. His sandy hair hung limply in front of his eyes, a steel blue. Puffy bags sat underneath his eyes, making him look dead. Cole's innocent nature both intrigued and alarmed Rho. He seemed an innocent killer.

"Cole - I -" Rho shuffled towards Cole and knelt down in the grass with him, "what exactly  _are_ you?"

"I am.. not sure, really. I am me. I help the hurt, and that's all that matters," he did not look up from his hands, or if he did, she could not see it from underneath his hat.

"So - you're... Cole, I guess. Just.. Cole,"

"Yes. And you're Rhododendron."

"That's me."

"You help people, let them live when they should have died - give them hope when you have none. I want to do that too - help people. I want to stay." Cole stopped what he was doing and looked up. He face innocent and his eyes sad, yet his words seemed cheerful.

"Well then, Cole," Rho grinned, standing up and extending her hand out to him, "to welcome you to the Inquisition -" her grin grew wider and her hand stretched for days, "would you like to spar?"


	4. Chapter 3: The Dark Crestwood

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, some real action! I highly suggest listening to musical compositions that make you feel like a bad ass. Hope you enjoy!

The sound of claws slicing skin rang across the stormy Crestwood waters. A Shade shrieked and heaved its vile body forward. Its arms stretched out into blood-soaked talons, slimy with the remains of the veil. The creature shrieked once more and swung its arms wildly in the air, grasping furiously.

Rho steadied herself, drawing her daggers up towards her and glancing at the massive gash in her arm. It stung. She looked at the wound for too long and soon the Shade had leapt at her, knocking her to the ground. She cried out, landing on her already injured arm. One of her daggers had flown out of her hand. She clambered towards it but the Shade was too fast. The creature slithered in front of the dagger and loomed over her. She twisted her body to face the Shade. It snarled viciously, blood dripping from its claws and mouth. Her blood.

She clamped onto her remaining dagger and stared the monster down. It hissed and veered its ugly body, begging her to strike. Its glowing eyes teased her as it swayed slowly from side to side, planning its next move. Rho studied it carefully, stroking her dagger with her thumb as she lay there.

She took a deep breath and began slowly inching her way backwards.

The creature leaped.

Rho's body reacted before her mind did. The Shade met her dagger, howling as the metal sunk into its abdomen. Rho leapt to her feet, grimacing as her single blade danced back and forth across the monster's body.

The Shade lashed at her, sending her flying backwards. She landed on her knees, and stared up at the creature as it flung itself towards her. It swung at her again and missed. Rho rolled across the ground, spotting her other dagger and scrambling towards it. The shade mimicked her every move, inches from her body. Rho's heart pounded. No one else was around to help her. She was alone in this fight.

She was inches from the dagger, and could feel the icy deadness of the Shade pressing against her. It knocked her down before she could reach the dagger.

The creature rose over her. She could not find the strength to get up. Blood poured from her arm and her brain threatened to explode out of her skull. The shade drew closer, hovering over her. It drew its body forward, so close to Rho's face that she could feel its sickly breath against her skin. The creature gaped its mouth to shriek once more.

Rho swung her body over. She grabbed her other dagger and drove them both across the monster's throat with a loud cry.

It collapsed to the ground in a thick black ichor.

Rho lay motionless, covered in blood and filth. She panted heavily, her lungs scraping against her chest. She wiped her forehead, checking for more blood, but found only sweat and dirt. She looked down at her wounded arm. Blood continued to gush, painting her arm a dirty crimson.

"Andraste's ass," she huffed, scanning the area for any signs of her friends.

It was at least three in the afternoon, but Crestwood was as dark as ever. Hills draped the landscape and clouds hung dangerously low to the ground. If there was anyone to be found, she could not see them.

She slowly rose to her feet, dusting off her pants and kicking off the mud from her boots. She undid the wrap from her bloody arm. A small locket fell out of the linen and onto the ground. She groaned as she reached down for it and opened it. A worn drawing of a young girl was on the inside. Her sister, Abigail. She could not remember when she had last seen her sister, nor where she would be right now. Rho smiled meekly as she tucked the locket into her other handwrap, nodding to the drawing as she did so. She tied the free linen around the gash in her arm and began walking back up the hill toward Crestwood Village.

* * *

Pillars of flame erupted from the ground. Foliage and grass burned loudly. Villager's muffled pleas for help encompassed the dark skies.

"Someone kill that thing!"

Waves of fire cackled ominously as it crawled up the gates of the village, its tendrils grasping to get inside. The inferno carved a path from the gates into an open field, where it danced proudly until it set every strand of grass aflame.

"Where is the Inquisitor?!" Seeker Cassandra bellowed through the blazing towers.

The flames grew higher and higher, crackling and booming around the field, which was completely consumed by the burning. A foul roar escaped from within the middle of the field.

"Where did it go?!" Cassandra raised her shield to block the fire capering around her. Her voice fell flat to the chaos.

"I've got it!" Iron Bull's booming voice echoed through the flames to her ears. She sprinted in his direction.

She dashed through the fires, shielding herself and mouthing a prayer to the Maker.

The Inferno engulfed every inch of the field, but opened to reveal a large circle untouched by the flames. Bull stood tall, readying his giant weapon. He stared down a Rage Demon, which was keeled over on the ground in the middle of the circle.

Cassandra burst through the blazing pillars and into the circle with them. She noticed Bull in his victory stance and staggered back. The Rage Demon moaned, coal in its voice.

"Stand back, Seeker. This one's mine," Bull smirked at her, then swung his axe above his head and sprinted towards the demon. Bull's war-cry thundered around them, overpowering the sound of the flames and the chaos.

He leapt on the demon and plunged his axe straight through it, slicing the creature in half.

The demon let out one final cry, then erupted into flame.

Bull lifted himself back onto his feet and slid his axe through the openings in the back of his armor. He grunted and turned toward Cassandra. Bull looked all too pleased with himself, while Cassandra appeared unsettled.

"We must make haste, Bull. There is no sign of the Inquisitor or the others!" Cassandra screamed at him, competing with the blaze of the inferno. The fires around them were still as loud as they had been before.

"Come on, then, I'll go first," Bull insisted, gazing at the fortress of fire around them. He readied himself to embrace the flames, and began walking toward them.

The pair braced themselves to be scalded, keeping their heads down and holding their arms in front of their faces.

Cassandra felt the earth beneath her grow cold, and the crackling of ice crystals began to form around her feet. A fierce wind blew through the field, making both Cassandra and Bull hold onto each other for support.

"What in the-" the Seeker began. Ice crystals crawled up the fiery tendrils, and the wind had carried away any remaining flames. The smoked cleared, revealing a thin, raggedy figure carrying a staff.

"Well, damn! It's about time," Bull grunted pleasantly.

Solas stood idly a few yards away from them, harbouring a faint smugness. His staff shone brightly. Flickers of magic danced around the elf, clearly pleased with their feat, "I figured you would be in need of some assistance. It appears I was correct."

"What of the villagers," Cassandra started, "were you not with them?"

"Cole and Varric are handling the villagers perfectly fine, if that is what you're asking, Seeker," Solas' expression grew stony. He paced slowly, using his staff to paint an image in the burnt ground, "I have also discovered the fade rift in which the Rage Demon escaped from," he did not look up from his staff, "though I did not spot the Inquisitor on my way here."

"Then where is she?!" Cassandra asked worriedly.

"Wherever she is, it would be in our best interest to find her before more demons crawl out of the rift," Solas breathed, straightening his back and jabbing his staff into the ground. He motioned for the Seeker to take the lead.

* * *

Rho stumbled weakly up the hill. The gash on her arm continued to bleed. Her footsteps grew heavy and her vision began to blur around the edges in a black vignette. The earth quickly turned to mud as a thick rain began crashing down upon it. Her legs felt like jelly, buckling and wobbling under the weight of her powerless body. Her feet slipped and stuck in the mud as she walked.

_Where did they go?_

She was certain that the fade rift was where she was standing, but her head pounded so furiously that she dare not question it. She weakly trudged on.

The steep hill continued for what felt like hours to her. The rain poured down harder, trying to mask the smell of burning terrain that wafted into her nose. She began coughing. The thick, smokey air filled her up, drowning her. She dropped to her knees and gripped the ground hard. Mud covered her fingers in a thick goop. She let out a defeated moan and attempted to pry her hands from the soaking earth. Her whole body felt heavy and drenched, like she was being held underwater.

She could not understand why just one demon had taken so much out of her. Was it because it was a demon? Or because she was too weak?

People were different than demons. There is more than one way to damage a person; damaging a demon is purely physical. She was relieved, in part, that demons' eyes looked dead to begin with. Made it less painful to watch, she felt. Watching the life drain from a person's eyes brought on a feeling she wished had gone away will all of her other missing memories. Mercenaries taught Rho to detach her conscious from the blade. She was no mercenary.

She lifted her head and groggily wiped the mud from her face. A green glow illuminated the ground in front of her. She used all of the remaining strength in her arms to prop herself up on her hands.

So absorbed in her own pain, she did not see the fade rift in the distance. She was just metres from it. She glanced around for any remaining demons but found none. The field was singed a thick black, except for a small patch where the rift was hovering. A soft melody enveloped her, beckoning her to come closer.

She glanced down at her right hand, which was flickering with the same green glow as the veil. She propped herself up some more so that she was kneeling. She could see the rift in its full glory now. It was much bigger than she had thought. She sat and admired the rift for some time, trying to regain any strength that she had lost.

"Someone close that rift!"

Rho lost her train of thought and shot up. She lifted her marked hand to the rift and jammed it skyward.

A surge of green light connected her hand to the rift. She felt its pure power circling her body. The veil whispered honeyed words into her ear, humming a sickly sweet tune. She felt the world disappear from around her, and floated in a trance-like state. She saw only the rift in those moments, and had forgotten just how much pain she was in. Was there any pain to begin with? She could not remember.

She felt the veil release itself from her and implode. The rift had vanished. Panting heavily, she glanced around. The villagers had disappeared into the valley,and she was alone.

The veil left her body feeble, and the black around her vision grew thicker with each passing second. The sounds of the wind and the rain droned on into a sickly chant. She could feel her limbs giving out from underneath her, and she collapsed to the ground, unconscious.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! You made it! I really hope you liked this. There is a part 2 on the way, and I'm quite excited to finally see this story take off.
> 
> If you like this story, please feel free to leave a REVIEW. Even if you hate it, leave something for me to work on, constructive criticism is what drives me forward.
> 
> THANK YOU FOR READING! CHEERS! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all so much for reading. I hope you enjoy what I've put together. Cheers!


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